Crucible: Kirk by David R. George III Read Free Book Online

neck.
    â€œNo wonder you were worried about that jump,” Kirk said, motioning back toward the ravine. “You didn’t want another patient.”
    Salvatori peered down the hill, her features tensing. “I hate to think what a fall into that gulch would’ve done to Tom Telegraph.”
    â€œNot to mention to me,” Kirk teased.
    â€œThat jump was your choice, not the horse’s,” Salvatori said, seemingly serious again. She regarded Kirk for a long moment before working the reins and pulling Romeo around to her right, heading him away from the ravine. “Well, safe riding, Mister Kirk,” she said.
    â€œWait,” Kirk called, struck by the impulse that, beyond the attraction he felt for this woman, he actually wanted to get to know her. “You didn’t even tell me what town you live in.” Although this section of Idaho remained only moderately populated, a number of towns and small cities spread across the hills and plains within riding distance.
    Salvatori peered back over her shoulder at Kirk. “No,” she said, at last offering him a smile. “I didn’t.” Then she took Romeo into a gallop and raced away.
    For just a moment, Kirk considered riding after her. Her smile had given him the impression that, after he’d effectively proclaimed his interest in her, she had sped away as something of a challenge to him. He liked that. He liked challenges, but he also liked bending them to his own terms. If Dr. Salvatori did indeed practice veterinary medicine in the area, he should have no trouble locating her.
    Kirk turned Tom Telegraph back the way he and the horse had come. It had been an interesting morning, and he found himself for the first time in a long time open to new possibilities—and not only open to new possibilities, but anxious for them.
    Halfway down the hill, Kirk urged Tom Telegraph into a gallop. Once more, they successfully leaped the ravine. This time, Kirk’s heart beat faster not simply from fear, but from the memory of Antonia’s smile.

TWO
    (2282/2267)
    Kirk observed from the cover of the foliage as his other self descended the hill and jumped the ravine again atop Tom Telegraph. The horse and rider passed his location without taking any apparent notice of him—if he even could be noticed. Kirk still lacked an understanding of how the nexus functioned.
    He moved to watch his alter ego gallop away, presumably back to the farmhouse, but as Kirk turned, his surroundings changed. Once more, he felt disoriented. As had been the case when he’d looked around from the door of his vacation home and suddenly found himself in his uncle’s barn, he experienced no transporter effect or anything that suggested a loss of consciousness, he spied no flashes of light or any morphing of objects. He simply no longer stood outside in the Idaho daylight. Instead, a white marble column rose before him, all the way up to an ornate ceiling. Reflexively, he looked back to where the ravine had been, but now he saw only a three-walled recess. A long, narrow table there contained a collection of busts carved from some dark green stone. Above the table hung a colorful tapestry depicting what appeared to be a chariot race, and to either side, in the corners of the space, statues perched atop pedestals. The column behind which Kirk stood paired with another to form an entrance to the recess.
    The setting seemed familiar, though he could not quite place it. He peered cautiously out from behind the column to the rest of the room. At its center, five chairs encircled a small table, its surface covered with dishes of fruit and meat, golden goblets, and a gold-accented glass vessel containing a dark red liquid. The skins of animals spread across the floor, and artwork and plush red drapes provided additional ornamentation. A brace of columns had been erected at the center of each of the room’s other three walls; those to the left and right